


Snapshots from a Convention

by orphan_account



Category: Princess Tutu
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-03
Updated: 2013-10-03
Packaged: 2017-12-28 07:03:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,906
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/989130
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Fakir is invited to be a guest speaker at a fantasy convention in England, so he and Ahiru make a little vacation out of it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Snapshots from a Convention

She wants to hover by his side and make sure he’s okay, but Ahiru knows it annoys Fakir when people do that, so she doesn’t. Instead she sits in one of the chairs in their room and tries to concentrate on the book she brought along on the flight but didn’t end up reading because she was too busy doing what she could for him. She still can’t focus properly on it, but it’s something to do, at least.

“Ahiru?” His voice still sounds a little weak, but it’s stronger than it was earlier. She looks over at him, and his coloring seems more or less back to normal now. “Could you… get me some more water?”

She nods and closes the book. “Of course!”

She refills the glass from one of the water bottles they bought in the lobby, and brings it over to the bed. Fakir sits up carefully, wincing only a little, and gratefully takes it from her. “Sit down. I don’t mind, really,” he adds as she opens her mouth to ask if it’s okay. She sits on the bed beside him as he slowly drinks the water. He considers her over the rim as he does, and speaks again when he’s done. “How did it not affect you?”

“I don’t know,” Ahiru admits. “Maybe it’s cause I used to be a bird? So I was already kinda used to flying, sort of. This was your first time, so it really bothered you.”

“Ugh.” He groans. “I really should’ve listened and taken something before we took off. I won’t make that mistake on the flight home.”

“Are you feeling any better now?” She scoots forward a little and reaches to rub his back, like she did on the plane when he was getting sick.

He starts to nod, but then thinks better of it. “A little bit. I don’t think I can eat anything for a while, though. Sorry.”

“That’s okay.” Ahiru gives him a small smile and strokes his hair. “There’s no hurry. Just rest, and we’ll get something when you’re ready.”

They lie down together then, each one thinking about how happy they are that she came along with him on this trip. And when their eyes meet, they smile, because they know that they were both thinking the same thing.

***

The first night they’re there, they go down to the hotel restaurant, and Fakir gets talked into eating at the same table as some of the other writers who’ve come as guest speakers. Naturally, he brings Ahiru with him. They go there again for lunch the next day, and there’s an incident when one particularly rude male writer tries to exclude her from the table this time on the basis that she’s “just” his girlfriend and therefore doesn’t belong. Fakir nearly loses his temper while refusing. As they leave, Ahiru tries to tell him that it would’ve been okay to leave her if he’d wanted to, but he touches her cheek and tells her no, he’d never exclude or abandon her for anyone, especially someone so rude. After that they start eating at places around the city, or bring food back to their room to eat. It’s much more pleasant that way.

Fakir helps Ahiru order when they go out. She knows some English, but isn’t as good at it as he is, so she has some trouble speaking it sometimes. She understands it, mostly, when she hears or reads it, but when she tries to speak it her grammar or word choices often get messed up. She doesn’t like getting laughed at by rude native speakers of the language, and he knows it, so he helps her in public, and in private he practices with her so she can gain more confidence.

Neither one thinks the food here is as good as it is at home, but they enjoy the meals anyway because each one is like a little date for them.

***

They go sightseeing in the city when they can, and wander around the convention hall taking in the sights that can be seen there too. Unlike at home, Fakir almost constantly holds Ahiru’s hand while they’re out. It surprises her, because they’re not typically into public displays of affection, and don’t do a whole lot of hand-holding when they’re out and about in Gold Crown. She doesn’t mind at all, because his hands are big and warm and comforting and she loves holding them, but she is curious. So she works up the courage to ask him while they’re sitting on a park bench, stumbling over an explanation of the fact that she doesn’t mind, she likes it really, she just wants to know.

“We’re in a strange city, far from home.” Fakir traces his fingertips over her palm, his gaze straying to the little white scar that stands out on the back of his own hand. “I don’t want to lose sight of you.” He looks up at her face. “Do you think that’s stupid?”

“No.” Ahiru smiles and shakes her head, and squeezes his fingers with her much smaller ones. “I don’t want to lose sight of you either.”

***

They buy little things in the dealer’s hall and around the city, not for themselves but for each other. It’s more fun that way for them, to try and surprise each other with small treats purchased because they thought the other would like them.

One of the best things Ahiru gets for Fakir is something she finds when they wander into the section where fan artists are selling prints, commissions, and various crafts, mainly based on works relevant to the convention. There’s an artist who has for sale a beautiful print of a picture she did illustrating Ahiru’s favorite scene from the book Fakir wrote about her duck constellation. When the artist sees who she’s with and thus realizes who she is, she tries to give it to Ahiru for free. Ahiru doesn’t think it’s fair to just take something the girl put such hard work into without paying for it, though, and insists on paying full price for the print.

The transaction completed, she bounds happily away to show Fakir and babble at him in German about it. He’s as moved by the work as she is, and actually goes over to the artist to pay a personal – if slightly awkward – compliment to her, and she looks terrified but flattered as she stammers out something about how much she loved the book and thought it was a beautiful love story. She asks if he based the duck girl in the story on his pretty girlfriend here (Ahiru blushes at the compliment; she always does even when Fakir says so, and he has many times over the years), and Fakir says that yes, he did, but he doesn’t think he did her justice.

As they walk away, Ahiru takes his hand and tells him that she thinks he did.

***

At one of the panels Fakir is going to speak at, Ahiru overhears a conversation between a pair of women who somehow recognize her as being with him – it sounds like they work in the publishing industry, but she’s not sure. They’re close enough that she can’t help but listen in, and she understands them well enough to follow what they’re saying.

“Oh yeah. They make kind of an odd fit, don’t you think?”

“An odd fit? How so?”

“Well, they’re so different, it seems like. Like night and day, almost. I kinda wonder…”

“You kinda wonder what?”

Here it comes. Ahiru braces herself. Ever since their days at the Academy, she’s been hearing people wonder what Fakir sees in her. A disheartening number of people back then, and even a few over the years since, have been of the opinion that she’s not good enough for him, or that her personality must “drive him nuts” (as if it even works like that, and that phrase is just so mean anyway) and that they must argue constantly, and they just don’t get how he puts up with her. Or some combination of them. She should be used to it by now, but she’s not. It always hurts, especially because _she_ used to wonder what he saw in her during bad moments when her self-esteem was particularly low, and before he confessed his feelings she was convinced that he wouldn’t ever look at her that way. It’s never fun to hear her old fears voiced by someone else.

“I kinda wonder what she sees in him.”

Ahiru almost quacks in surprise, but suppresses it. She hadn’t been expecting _that!_

“What do you mean? He’s hot and talented, what’s not to like?”

“Yeah, I know, but… he’s not exactly Mr. Personality, is he? He always seems so gloomy and antisocial, and she’s so bubbly and outgoing… I wonder how she deals with it.”

“Well, we don’t know what they’re like in private, maybe he’s different when he’s not in public.”

“That’s true…”

Ahiru almost wants to nod at that. It _is_ true. That part of Fakir has never changed – he’s not a social person, and doesn’t open up easily to others, especially strangers, and he doesn’t concern himself much with the opinions of the general public, at least not more than he has to. But he trusts her with his innermost self, and she gets to see sides of him that few others do. And in some cases, ones that _nobody else_ does.

“Yeah. And you know what they say – opposites attract.”

The woman scoffs. “You don’t really believe that, do you? That’s such a cliché!”

“It happens sometimes! Like with them, you know?”

Ahiru sighs at that. _Not really,_ she wants to tell them, _at least not with us._ She shouldn’t let it annoy her, but it does, just a little. It can’t be helped, she supposes, since Fakir doesn’t let people see his real self easily unless he really trusts them, but still. They’re not as opposite as people who don’t know them tend to think, not where it counts. Their surface temperaments may seem really different, but on the inside, they’re more similar than it seems at first glance. And anyway, the differences between them help them work better, because they use them to make each other stronger, the way they always have.

“I guess. You can tell they’re madly in love, though, cause of the way they look at each other. And they’re always holding hands, it’s so cute.”

“I know, right? If nothing else, they look really cute together, appearance-wise. She’s like half his size and it’s so adorable.”

“Oh, I _know!_ I love couples like that!”

They talk a little bit more as everyone waits for the panel to start. The last thing Ahiru hears one of them say before the guests come out and draw everyone’s attention is “I bet they have incredible sex, though.” It makes her blush and giggle knowingly.

They’re right, but she would never tell them that.

***

Fakir’s based some of his characters on people he knows or used to know, so it’s no surprise to Ahiru when she sees the occasional Princess Tutu, or Rue, or even a particularly well-made Mr. Cat, among the many cosplayers at the convention. They make her smile fondly.

Even so, she’s not prepared when a mother and her young daughter come up to the two of them just after they’ve left their room one morning.

“She just _loves_ your book,” the woman gushes. She’s talking about a children’s book Fakir wrote, one of the first things he had published that wasn’t a short story. Her daughter is dressed up as the main character, who he based on Uzura. “She wants us to read it to her practically every night.”

The girl looks so much like Uzura that it’s eerie, and Ahiru manages to compliment the well-made costume despite how stunned she is. She takes her eyes off the girl so she can address the mother, and that’s when it happens. A little hand tugs on her skirt, and a question is asked.

“What are you dressed up as zura?”

Ahiru’s too shaken up to speak, so Fakir steps in to cover for her with an excuse about her English not being so good – it’s not technically a lie – and explains to the girl that Ahiru’s not dressed up as anyone in particular. He exchanges some more pleasantries with them before the woman hurries her daughter off to get breakfast.

Once they’re gone, Fakir takes Ahiru back to their room, because he can tell she’s not all right. They sit down on the bed and he holds her as she cries, and even sheds a few tears of his own. They’ve never gotten over losing Uzura, and what just happened – particularly as it included a moment painfully like the last time Uzura saw Ahiru as a human – was a wrenching reminder of the loss. Writing that book had been a way for Fakir to deal with it, and it had helped him work out some of his feelings, but this unexpected encounter reopened the old wound.

It takes them a while before they’re ready to leave their room again and face the world.

***

There’s supposed to be a dance in the hotel ballroom one night, so they decide to check it out. But when they get there, it’s all very modern dancing, to loud, frenetic music that they don’t like, so they leave almost as soon as they get there. It’s not that it’s bad, and the people there certainly look like they’re having fun, but it’s just not to their personal tastes.

They go back up to their room after leaving, and put on some classical music. They mix in a few ballet moves with some slow dancing, adapting to the smaller space of the hotel room as best they can. They sway and hold each other close and she pirouettes and he dips her. It’s very romantic and much more suited to them.

Soon enough, though, they’re not dancing anymore. They’re kissing and their hands are wandering and neither one cares if anyone hears them. It ends with them entangled in each other’s arms in bed, playfully arguing over who has to go turn the music off.

***

Ahiru’s favorite gift by far is one that Fakir doesn’t surprise her with.

They’ve discussed marriage quite a bit recently, but haven’t set anything in stone yet, and haven’t bought rings either. That’s something Fakir is adamant about not buying on his own – his feeling is that they should make the choice together, the way they’ve done so many other important things together. They’ve looked at some jewelry stores back home, but haven’t found anything that really speaks to them yet.

To their surprise, they find it in a smaller shop here, not one of the larger ones. Ahiru tugs on his hand when she spots it while they’re walking around late one afternoon, and on a whim they go inside. While they’re browsing, they see it: a set of his and hers rings made of silver, with two small, heart-cut gems set in them. One is a moonstone, the other a ruby. It reminds Ahiru vividly of a necklace Edel once showed her. They look at each other, and agree wordlessly that it’s perfect, so Fakir inquires about the price. It’s a bit expensive, but not so much so that they can’t afford it, and he pays for it then and there.

Fakir squeezes Ahiru’s hand as they leave the store. “We’ll have to set a date now,” he says softly.

Ahiru smiles and nods up at him, not trusting her voice because it’s too full of happy tears.

***

At another panel Fakir speaks at, during the question and answer portion, someone stands up and prefaces their inquiry for him with an apology if this is too personal, and adds that he doesn’t have to answer if he’s not comfortable. Ahiru, sitting in the front row, sees Fakir tense slightly in anticipation.

The person mentions that they’ve noticed he dedicates all his work to an “Ahiru”, and they’re curious: what is she to him? There’s a slight pause as Fakir considers what to say, and then he smiles, his eyes meeting Ahiru’s for just a second.

"Everything."

***

Before their flight home departs, Fakir makes sure to take some medicine that will hopefully ward off any airsickness. Additionally, Ahiru makes him take her window seat.

To her surprise, he falls asleep not long after takeoff. She smiles at his sleeping face and takes his hand, and stares out the window. She dozes off too, and doesn’t wake up until Fakir gently nudges her and tells her they’ve landed. She blinks sleepily and asks how he’s feeling.

“Mostly fine.” He kisses her hand. “The medicine worked right. I fell asleep the wrong way, though, so I’m a little sore.” He rubs the back of his neck with his other hand and winces.

“Silly.” Ahiru giggles. “I’ll massage it for you when we get home, okay?”

Fakir smiles. “That sounds good.”

So they disembark, and wait for their luggage, and then they go home, back to their comfortable little house. They both let out identical happy sighs when they walk in the door, which makes them glance at each other and laugh.

It’s been a wonderful trip, but it’s even better to be home.


End file.
